One Two Three
by Darkening Light 666
Summary: ON HIATUS I live by one rule. One rule that helps me survive. The One Two Three rule. That rule has kept me alive so far, but now I'm in trouble of breaking that rule. Daryl Dixon/OC slash


**So, I think before anything else, I have to address some issues that some people will most likely have with this fic.**

**This fic will contain graphic content, more likely violent than sexual. It will contain harsh and offensive language and reference to things that may be triggering to people.**

**This is a slash fic, which means that Daryl is paired with a man. If you aren't a fan of realistic gay representation and the resulting homophobic language use that _will _show itself in scenes within this fic, please leave now.**

**This fic isn't for the weak at heart. When I write, I do it to the best of my ability. It has been years since I last picked up a pen and wrote a fic properly like this and my views of the world have changed. When I write now, I write as the OC, not as someone looking into that life. And, as such, this writing is going to be dark and gritty and maybe a little too realistic for some people. Please, if you do not want to read dark themes, do not read the fic.**

**There will be things in the fic that this OC may do that I personally could never condone, even on Z-day. This is grouped to the dark themes mentioned previously. There are things that I will probably write that will sicken even me in this fic and I cannot say some of those things will be okay. I know I will shed tears when writing this fic and you may even shed tears when reading it. If you are not willing to deal with that, do not read this fic.**

**With the warnings out of the way, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to click on this link and want to read this fic.**

**As I said before, this is my first time really getting down to writing a fanfic that I actually feel passionate about in a long time. I would very much appreciate people taking time to review each chapter as you read them. Constructive criticism helps both me as a writer and you as a reader get better content in the following chapters. Thank you for reading and enjoy the fanfic.**

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**One Two Three**

The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon / OC

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**Chapter One**

Silver Slippers

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When the world goes to shit, there is very little you can trust. In fact I can list everything on one hand. One hand that had been mauled and only had half of its fingers left.

One. Yourself. Always trust yourself. You are the most important thing in your world. Live by your conscience and your rules. You have to live with yourself after everything you do. No one else; just you. Always live by what's right to you, right the way up to your dying day, no matter how soon that dying day may be.

Two. Protection. You always need protection. Protection is important. Keep your protection on you at all times; whether that be your trusty can of pepper spray, your favourite gun or a splintered chair leg you picked up off the floor during a bar brawl. Whatever it is, keep it close. Your protection is your best friend.

Three. Companionship. Being alone isn't something anyone really wants. Keep a companion around. Someone who you can talk to, even if they can't talk back. Keep a dog or your best friend around to talk to. It makes living just that little bit easier.

That is what I call my _one two three _rule of protection. It was my only rule for survival. Be number one, be best friends with number two and try your hardest to have a number three around.

That was it. That was what I lived by.

* * *

Radio music was shit. Who did they even employ to create the playlists that they actually played? Whoever it was needed taking somewhere quiet and shooting point blank.

A loud whine sounded from the backseat of my car and a wet nose pressed against my shoulder.

My eyes flickered up to the rear view mirror and softened as big blue eyes stared back at me. "Want out o' t'car, huh, Dix?" I asked, shifting in my seat to try and relieve the ache I was feeling. I wanted the same thing. We'd been sat in the car all day and my butt was feeling way beyond numb at this point.

Dix replied to my question with another whine.

"Reyt, I'll pull in't next drive-in an' we can sit an' rest for a bit. How's that sound?" I got a yap in reply. "Taking that as a yes. Might even get that lucky break I've been after, too." My shoulders shook in a little chuckle. What were the odds that I was going to find a someone to forget my troubles with out here in what looked like the boonies of whatever state I was in at the moment.

After a few minutes of driving, my gaze flickered up to the dog sat in the backseat. "I just had a conversation with me dog, didn't I?" I asked my dog. Yap. "Yup. Nucking Futs Crede right here, huh?" My lips curled into a wide grin as I shook my head at my own crazy antics. Well, at least I wasn't talking to myself. That would be even worse.

"Ah, here we are. Seen better places but it in't too bad. Looks reyt."

I pulled into the dirt car park, manoeuvring my car into a space. There weren't any spaces lined out like there usually was back home. This car park seemed more like a free for all. I slid out of the car and stretched, taking a moment to massage my aching back. "Not spending that long sat in a car again, y'hear me, Dix?" I asked as I opened up the back door and let her pad out and shake out her long fur.

She padded off immediately, going to find somewhere to empty her poor doggy bladder.

When I glanced back, that place was very, very near the wheel of someone's motorcycle. I winced. "Dix, don't piss on that," I called out, giving a short, sharp whistle. She yapped in response and padded towards me happily.

"You're gonna get me shot." I didn't know how jokingly I had said that. People here in America seemed to have a gun a person and then some. Back across the pond, knowing there was a gun around in whatever town or city you were in made the news. "Come on, you stupid bag o' fleas. Let's get us summut to drink."

The dog, thankfully, stayed at my heels as I made my way inside the bar. The place was surprisingly cosy. Not something I expected. Not that I really knew what to expect. The most I had seen of America was open fields and whatever sights had seen when I'd been driving away from said open fields.

"What can I get you, bud?" the bartender asked, drawing my attention away from the decorations around the bar and to him.

"Double brandy and coke." It probably wasn't the best idea to start drinking just yet. I hadn't found a place for me and the mutt to stay and if I drank too much then I knew I wouldn't be looking for a place. Doubted the owner would like me curled up in my car in the car park over night.

But for now I didn't care about what a shitty decision it was. I was going to have my brandy and just enjoy it for a moment.

The glass was sat down in front of me a moment later and I murmured a thanks. My hand dropped down to pet the furry head by my hip as I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip. But, said furry head wasn't by my thigh like I expected it to be. Fucking dog.

I lifted my gaze to look around for her. It only took me a moment to find her bothering a duo not too much further down the bar. She had her front paws on the thigh of one man's leg, licking at his stubble dusted neck and face as he held out his beer bottle so it wouldn't spill on him.

A short, sharp whistle escaped my lips as I pushed off the bar. All three pairs of eyes looked up at me and I was then caught in a very intense stare from three very clear, sharp pairs of bright blue eyes. At least one pair of eyes had the decency to look somewhat guilty. "Dix in't botherin' ya', is she?" I asked, clicking my fingers to bid her to come to my feet. She did so, looking up at me guiltily with a whine as she curled up around my feet.

"Naw, she's all right," the older of the two assured, shaking off his beer bottle before bringing it to his lips again. His voice was rough and raspy. It was the voice of a man who had had a dozen too many cigarettes in his life. "Pretty pooch. Shetland?"

My head bobbed in a nod. "Sure is. Don't know about pretty, though. Only thing she's pretty at is being pretty good at getting in trouble." That was a lie. She was a beautiful dog. Big fluffy white creature with splotches of ginger and black in her fur. Beautiful creature when she wasn't causing me trouble.

"She spilled your beer, right?" I asked, nodding to the puddle on the floor at the man's feet. "I'll get t'next round." My brown eyes flickered to the other, younger man that was just sat silently, staring at the ground as he clutched his beer bottle. "Your friend, too."

"Mighty kind o' ya."

I gave a half nod in response. It was on me, really. The dog had spilled half of his beer and I was the one responsible. Buying him a new one just seemed right.

As I gestured for the two of them to put in their orders to the waiting bartender, I got a good look at them.

One was quite a bit older than the other. He was quite well built, though the stress of life definitely showed on his face, even as his eyes lit up and he grinned. His hair was shaved short and silver around the edges. He looked to be in his late forties at the very youngest. Age hadn't been kind to him.

The other, from what I could see, shared the same quite worn look about him, though he was definitely considerably younger. Around my age maybe. Early thirties. Maybe a few years older. Not old enough to be in the forty club, yet, though. His hair was short and fairly light; a dusty brown colour.

Neither of them were what I'd call overly attractive. They were both worn around the edges; very, very rough.

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"And so, when he wakes up he just starts screamin' like some pansy ass pussy sumbitch," Merle laughed, slapping his hand down on the bar top as he finished his story.

Daryl and I burst into raucous laughter, both gripping onto our drinks tightly so we didn't spill them down ourselves.

"No shit? He really just screamed?" My voice came out a little higher pitched than I intended as I attempted unsuccessfully to calm my loud laughter.

"Oh yeah."

After I had bought the two of them a round like I had promised, the three of us had gotten to chatting. Well, Merle and I had gotten to chatting. His little brother had sat mostly silent after being introduced. The man seemed rather grumpy. Obviously not a happy drunk. He'd cracked a little, though, as Merle and I had started exchanging war stories about the times when everything had gone tits up when we had been a little drunk.

Merle had started off with a doozy involving a possum, lots of cheese and a bit too much vodka. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to drink vodka after that little episode.

"What about you? Anything good happen to you while you were under the influence, Credence?" the man chortled, smirking as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips again.

"Do bears shit in't woods? Uhm… Well, there was this one time me and me sister were out in Cardiff." I raised my hand, gripping a glass of whiskey that I'd moved onto and gestured vaguely. This was only my second drink so I wasn't even close to getting drunk yet. The Dixon boys had already chugged another handful of beers between them since we'd been chatting. Both of them were definitely much further along than I was. "And we was drinking like fucking fish. I was proper pissed at that point. Could hardly stand on me own two feet. Basically leaning against me sister. So a couple o' Scots come up to us and start talking, like."

I took a gulp of my whiskey. "They were obviously trying to get into me sister's pants but we were drinking and none of us could give two shits. Reyt, we began crawling through t'pubs and shit around, drinking a coupe in each place, just checking out what was there. By about…four in't morning, one o' Scots was bustin' proper bad for a fag, so we-"

"A fag?!" Merle all but exploded. I knew he had seemed like the type to not be pro-rainbow.

I held a hand up to stop the outburst. "A smoke. Y'know, a cigarette, a fag? Whatever. You fuckin' Americans have different names for fucking everythin'. Could ask for a sponge over here and somehow be accidentally wanting to blow your pet dog or summut."

The three of us began laughing loudly as Dix whined softly at my feet.

"Not you, Dixy." Dix was safe from me accidentally wanting to give out doggy blowjobs. "So anyway, he's like dying for a fag so we all pile out o' t'bar we were in and stumble 'round like a load o' three legged donkeys holding each other up, looking for a fag machine. When we find one we all pile together us loose change and he's putting' it in't vendin' machine all the while complainin' 'bout how it's costin' us a fuckin' bomb for a single pack. Box drops out an' he's all confused 'cause t'box is fuckin' huge."

I gestured the approximate size of the box; a little too much like a fisherman showing the size of his biggest catch. I was one for exaggerating and I would flat out admit that one. "So he opens t'box an' in't thickest brogue you have ever heard, he just yells out _silver slippers. _I just fuckin' lost it, then. Me and me sister collapsed against each other, pissin' ourselves laughin' while he's ragin' about his fuckin' silver slippers. The twat had only gone an' bought a fuckin' perfume box instead of a pack o' fags."

By this point the two men could hardly breathe they were laughing so hard at my story.

"Who's that fuckin' dumb?" Daryl grunted.

"Apparently this fuck was. He was-" My gaze turned down to Dix, brows draw together as the dog began snarling viciously. "Dix, cool it." She gave a loud bark as she stood up, glaring out the large window in front of her. "Fuck's wrong with you? Give us a sec. Gotta see what's rattling her cage."

I pushed myself to my feet as Merle waved his hand dismissively, giving me all the time I needed.

My body froze as my gaze turned out the window she was glaring at dangerously.

"What the actual fuck?"

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**And so you've come to the end of the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, even with the mass amounts of Credence's terrible language and not much actually happening in the chapter.**

**This is set before the apocalypse. No walkers as of yet.**


End file.
